The Night of the Lullaby

[Aunt Maud]

I
Artemus Gordon’s heart heaved with anguish. What he had just witnessed could not have happened; it was against nature, against any known physical and biological law. It was repellent to the senses. It was impossible! His eyes had seen what was to be seen, but his mind could not accept it. Such a transformation, so eloquently described by the vengeful, demented woman who had lured them here, could only be a trick, or a drug-induced hallucination. There would be a trap door under the so-called device! There would be some logical explanation.

Yet he had been faced with a similar case at least once; Loveless had done it before! The little doctor had managed to change people size, so why not...that?

Artemus Gordon did not spook easily, but these frightening memories flooded his mind. He could feel sheer panic physically filling him up, like a foul liquid would fill an inert, passive container. He fought the sensation and forced himself to breathe deeply in order to regain some sort of countenance. In the here-and-now, prompt action was needed. The first priority was to find Jim. There was, of course, the ever-present risk of fire. The complex apparatus was disintegrating around him. He could smell gas. The fire probably would start soon enough somewhere in this wreckage, and eventually it would take the rest of the house down.

Artie also wanted to get to the safe where he had seen her securing the specs of the machine. He needed to retrieve some of the documents to understand how to rebuild this evil contraption, and to try counter-acting its effects.

But the vault was about to collapse; they needed to get out, and fast. Where was Jim? Still shaking, Artemus instinctively took the few steps towards the circular platform where James West had been standing seconds ago. His partner’s clothes were now lying in a heap at centre of it.
Artemus Gordon jumped back with a cry of surprise when, as he touched James’ blue jacket, the jacket moved on its own accord, producing a small chuckle
“Gack!” The jacket said.

A gorgeous baby emerged from underneath the blue cloth. The baby smiled wide at him. Locking his large blue-green eyes on Artie’s face, he repeated its greetings:
“Gack!”

“Jim? ...No! … It cannot be! What am I saying? I must be going mad!”

“Agack!” The baby emphasized

Artemus Gordon knew he was loosing time and, at the very least, some of his mind... But, strangely, he felt grateful for the presence of the child. With chaos surrounding them, his survival instincts took over. He quickly kneeled next to the baby and endeavored to extricate the tot from the clothing.

“This mise-en-scene is the production of a very sick mind.” The agent said angrily, untying the gun belt from the child’s waist and leg.

Was it the man’s haste or the disagreeable sensation of being stripped bare and feeling cold? The baby’s face scrunched up into a frown; he seemed to glare at Artie who, ignoring him, frantically rolled Jim’s guns, belt and clothes into a ball. The babe consoled himself noisily sucking the barrel of the sleeve-gun still attached to its podgy little arm!
“NO!” Artie screamed, snatching the small Derringer from the baby. The gun went off just above Artie’s head, hitting the one remaining source of light in the cellar.
Maybe the baby did not like the noise or the sudden darkness? Maybe he had taken offense of Mr. Gordon’s precipitation? This time, the tiny child starting to wail!

The agent grabbed the bundle of clothes and the bundle of joy, and made for the only exit.

“How can such a small creature as yourself produce a sound which pierces through the noise of a crumbling house?“ Artemus asked aloud as he tackled the steps three by three.

The ceiling collapsed immediately behind them. The house seemed to swallow itself seconds after Gordon and his charge reached the courtyard. He carried on running as fast as he could, as far away as possible from the coming blast.

A final explosion vaporized any existing trace of the machine, which, according to its maker, had rejuvenated James West to the first year of his life.



*************************



The agent turned around looking back at the small wooden structure now engulfed in flames. He felt despair. With a wrenching knot in the pit of his stomach, Artemus Gordon also considered the possibility that the “real” James West’s remains might never be found.

Exhaustion hit him suddenly; the lack of food and sleep of the past days caught up with him. As he heavily sat down on the ground, Gordon wished for the relief of tears but could not cry.
For all the times he had feared his partner to be dead, there always was something that told him otherwise. It was like an instinctive connection, a fifth sense which sustained hope, often defying logic and setting itself stubbornly against any evidence to the contrary. Artemus Gordon had come to trust these particular feelings and rely on them as if it were solid fact. There was a tight brotherly bond between the two men, an osmosis developed after years of facing mortal dangers together, as well as sharing the mundane aspects of their daily life... He refused to think that Jim could be dead. This time nothing told him otherwise, apart from...the appearance of the child!


”Gack!” With fierce determination, the baby was wiggling itself free from the tight embrace, forcing Artemus to relax his grip. The child tried to stand up, failed and eventually claimed the man’s lap as a more comfortable sitting arrangement.

“Hey little one! I’m sorry, I almost forgot about you.” Artie said very gently.

“You are not crying anymore. You are a brave boy, you know that? Look at that mess!” Gordon added waving in the direction of the fire.
”Gack!” The baby answered, apparently nonplussed. He followed the man’s gesture towards the burning house, but quickly set his eyes back on Artemus’ exhausted features. The tiny boy’s stare felt strangely embarrassing. Artie found himself trying to bounce the child on his knees, and singing a little ditty, as to create a diversion of sort.
”Don’t worry, everything gonna be alright!” The agent said, not knowing if he was saying it for the child’s benefit or his own. The baby took no notice and firmly placed its little hand on the man’s cheek.

“A-tee!”

“WHAT?” The startled agent cried: “What did you just say? Jim? Oh, no! What did you say, little one? Are you Jim? Come on, say that again! Did you say “Artie”? How do you know my name? No... That’s not possible, I‘m hearing things... Say “Artie” again.”

“A-gack?”

“No, not ‘a-gack’. A-r-t-i-e!”

“A-gack!” Try as he may, that’s all the man could get out of the stubborn infant.


Defeated, his nerves fraying, Gordon eventually stood up again and, babe in arms, wandered aimlessly around. Whoever inhabited this strange compound had left in a hurry, like rats deserting a sinking ship. They had grabbed whatever could be traded easily but had abandoned the rest, not even taking care to free the animals.

Behind the stables, the woman who had lured them in this derelict place was lying in a pool of blood. She has been shot three times. Artemus kneeled next to her. He sat the baby down on the ground behind him, using his own body to try screen off the ghastly scene. She was still breathing, even if it was apparent that it would not be for long. Instinctively, he held her head. She opened her eyes and faintly smiled at him.
“So, did it work?”
“What worked?”
“There is another machine, you know… In the East, the doctor, Loveless…”
“Loveless? Where is he? Where is Loveless? Where in the East?”
“Yes! Did James West survive? The first human being to… I want to know if it worked…”
Had he wanted to, the agent would not have had time to answer. She died, taken with her the secret of the other machine’s whereabouts.
She did not look peaceful, even in death. Gordon felt too wretched to curse her. He laid the beautiful, youthful woman on the grounds, looking at her with a mixture of sadness and impotent rage.
But she had revealed the improbable existence of another transformer. All he had to do is to find it!
”Well, James-my-boy, it looks as if it’s you and me from now on, as always!” Gordon bit his lips realizing what he had just said. The baby’s intense blue eyes were peering into his face again, creating the same unease as before!

This was in the middle of nowhere! There would be at least a two daylong ride back to the train and another twenty-four hour journey to the nearest town. For now, he needed to get organized. Finding food, shelter, transport, plus keeping an infant safe, of all things! And how on earth does one do that? He had wrapped the child in Jim’s shirt and his own jacket, which both were getting very wet and would not keep the child warm for long.

Their horses would be somewhere around...with a bit of food in the saddlebags, clean water in the flasks and blankets. The agent whistled a few times. His own horse responded quickly enough; Jim’s black steed seemed to materialize out of the smoky background. It snorted excitedly, stopping inches from Artie and the baby he was carrying.
The baby was evidently more excited by the horse than by the fire! He gurgled and started to bounce energetically, waving both arms at the animal. Artemus got a little concerned; Blackjack was not an easy creature. In fact, James was about the only one who could mount it. Well acquainted as he was with the animal, Gordon would not choose to ride it unless forced by circumstances. Even then, he had always felt that the horse merely tolerated him.
He could not have imagined that such a high-strung beast would endure having his nozzle pocked, patted and cuddled that way. The drooling and squealing ought to have been enough for it to gallop away, but the horse stayed absolutely still. It did not even flinched when the baby’s little fist disappeared in one of its flaring nostrils!
This last episode left Artie quite shaken, his beliefs in tatters...Could the horse have sensed something than himself could not…?
He was distracted from his ruminations by the distant rumbling of hooves; never before had he been so relieved to hear the bugles announcing the arrival of the cavalry.




II
Planning their operation carefully, the agents had sent many messages before leaving the train; one of those messages was a request for military assistance, complete with precise instructions on how and where to find the wretched place.

Scouts should have arrived the previous night, but it just had not happened. Gordon wondered whether things would have been ...different if they had shown on time.

James had mentioned he knew the officer in charge of the regiment they had liaised with. West was looking forward meeting with his old friend who had just been promoted to the rank of colonel, an exceptional honor for a man of his age.
Artemus now contemplated with overwhelming sadness that the happy reunion would take a very different turn. The grim prospect of fine-combing the ruins in search of James West’s body was a nasty way to greet his friend!

Their introduction was friendly but solemn. The briefing was to the point, orders were given, and promptly executed. The perimeter was secured, the bivouacs put in place and a large number of men had dealt with the already dying flames, making good use of the well and of the water towers. The fire was soon extinguished, and what was left of the building got sufficiently dampened and cooled to allow the search to start.

Hours on, no human remains had been found yet. Only tiny bones that Artie easily identified as those of some small rodents, probably rats. He was not particularly looking forward to going through the mass of half-burnt documents that had miraculously survived. A vast quantity of forged dollar bills was also retrieved almost undamaged from the safe that Artemus had no problem forcing open. These were definitively the Loveless brand!

Twice they went through the wreckage, crisscrossing the place, searching relentlessly. James West’s body was never found, only his ring. Gordon felt strangely relieved. According to his estimations, the ring was discovered where the platform had been. This was precisely the last place he saw Jim standing, and, more to the point, where a body consequently should have been found.

The search went on until nightfall forced them to stop. By then Artie was past tired but, in his heart, he knew that Jim could not have died in the fire. Of course he could have been captured, transported far away, perhaps like they had been before, in one of those paintings. Or…
Whilst it still felt totally improbable that Loveless’ diabolical machine had done what it was meant to do, one was forced to consider the possibility that James West had been given another lease of life!

It felt premature to share these extraordinary conjectures with anyone.
The colonel had done his best in the circumstances to remain congenial. He was very supportive and Artie felt comfortable with him. The agent shared quite a lot of information and gave the army man many sensitive details about the operation. He could certainly understand why James thought highly of the man.
The officer’s views on army discipline and the way he held his men were unorthodox but effective. His troops came across as rigorously trained. Yet despite strong evidence of all the necessary robustness required to be soldiers, the men appeared relaxed and calm … They were more efficient in their duties than many Artie had worked with. The colonel had briefly mentioned his love for Eastern martial arts, something he obviously had in common with Jim. Artemus regretted not having the time to talk with him at leisure, but there was urgent business to attend.
“I understand the child you are so worried about is rather... special!”
Artemus tensed up, but the officer carried on, not aware of the emotional grounds he was trading.
“They usually do not send federal government top men to play baby sitters!”
Artie smiled faintly and simply nodded. The colonel did not insist.
“Come on, Gordon, let’s find your precious bairn!”

In order to participate to the search, Artemus had to leave the baby with some young soldiers deemed capable of providing the necessary care and comfort. Having a small child around army troops was unusual but certainly not unwelcome. Most of the lads were willing to look after the tiny boy; some were coming from very large families and had plenty of experience with younger brothers and sisters. Others already had families of their own. Unlike Artemus, for whom this was unchartered territory, few were strangers to babies care.

As Artie and the officer reached the group of soldiers by the campfire, a chorus of men reached the count of ten, and one of them pretended to ring the bell. With much cheering and jeering, the baby was declared winner of the fight! Someone held the little arm up.
The child was laughing, chirruping and squealing, obviously having a great time being tossed up in the air.
The baby was the only one not to snap to attention when the colonel appeared. He was obviously overjoyed to see Artie and frantically waved at him, reaching out, trying to wrestle away from the young man carrying him. The only noise that could be heard was his loud protests at being held back.
“I believe this child wants to be released into Mr. Gordon’s care, Private!” The colonel said.
“Yes, Sir!” The lad brought the baby over. The baby latched onto Artie, clinging to the collar of his jacket with a series of passionate “Gack” and “A-Gack”, and drooling to match. Artemus felt quite moved by such a welcome, if a little self-conscious…
Explanations were demanded. Apparently the soldiers had an impromptu boxing event. The pugilists demonstrated some of their techniques, discussing strategies for coming matches against another regiment. The baby had not been cast aside and had passed from arms to arms while the practice took place. He seemed to have made many friends.
“And why not?” Artemus thought. “After all, Jim West was a soldier, a boxer, and generally was as popular with men as with women, albeit for vastly different reasons!”
Eventually the over excited babe, imitating the men’s actions, had poked a man in the eye! The burly soldier could not hold the side of his face, standing to attention, but he was grumbling, swearing and cursing under his breathe. His eye was watering profusely.
The colonel stepped towards him.
“Well, soldier, was it a fair fight?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“It seems to me that you have a bit of a weight advantage?
“Yes, Sir!”
“A good few pounds! About hundred and eighty pounds on him, I would say.” The colonel added, refraining a smile
“Yes, Sir, give or take a few...”
“And you call that a fair fight?”
“No, Sir!”
“More like … a training exercise mishap, perhaps?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Medical attention required, soldier?”
“No, Sir!”
The officer contemplated his men. He loved them. They were good soldiers.
Unlike many of the brass, he still considered himself one of them and did not keep aloof. This particular soldier was brave and strong, not too bright perhaps, but an excellent trooper. Humiliating him was never on the cards, and to the men’s great relief, the officer held his hand out to the soldier, wishing him good luck for the coming ‘real’ fight, which himself would be attending with great anticipation. They laughed and exchanged a few more words before all got ready for curfew.

The young man who had been attending to the baby for most of the day, showed Artie his tent and assured him he would be at their service, even before reveille if needed. Apparently parting from Artie had not been easy and the baby had protested noisily. Artie frowned, quite concerned at that. The lad had difficulties appeasing the little boy. Eventually the baby had calmed down; but having taken to his new sitter, he did not permit the soldier to put him down.
The young man would have animatedly gone into full report but Artemus sent him to bed.

The agent felt like taking a stroll before turning in. He had had a strange day, to say the least. Walking around with his brother in arms now turned ‘babe in arms’ did nothing to improve the feeling! A million questions were wheezing around his mind, none could be answered. The more troubling ones were about his partner’s wellbeing. Assuming that this baby was Jim, and some clues tended to confirm this view, was he conscious of his… predicament? Or had the man’s entire past been erased from his own memory?
Sitting on his lap, the baby appeared delighted with life and was grinning at him, apparently with not a care in the world. Artie smiled back, peering into the cherubic face, so extraordinary familiar and yet so unfathomably distant…
At least this time nobody was dying, ill or seriously wounded! With Loveless involved, anything could happen and madness usually prevailed; counteracting the crazy man required creativity, invention and there was absolutely no time for despondency!
“What am I going to do with you, hey?” Artie said to the baby, absentmindedly caressing the lovely warm head.
“A-gack?”
Gordon wondered for the hundredth time today why he felt so ridiculously comforted whenever the child seemed to respond to him. But he had to shake himself out of his reverie, as the tot became more insistent.
“A-GACK!?”
Artemus stood up and looked at the baby that he held at arms length in front of him:
“Young man, it’s been hours past your bed time, and mine too, for that matter. You reek of tobacco and drink! At your age! Shame on you! And of course, you got into a fight! I cannot leave you alone for one hour without you getting into some sort of trouble. That’s it, pal! This time, you are grounded! ...Until your next birthday! ...Be it your second one or...thirty third, if I am not mistaken? Whatever that means now!”
“Gack?”
“Yeah! Do you realize that your victim tonight is the boxing champion of this regiment? You’ve probably ruined the man’s reputation now; he will never be able to live it down!” Artie added, making his way back to the tent.
“A-Gack!” The baby answered bouncing happily before nestling on Artemus’ shoulder, thumb in his mouth.
“It is no use turning on the charm with me, partner, I know you too well!” Artie said to the sleepy child.
He was trying to sound gruff, and failed.



*************************


III
Who needs a bugle when one has a baby? For a few blissful seconds, Artemus Gordon maintained the illusion that it had all been a bad dream; a dream where he ended up in a rainy place, being pummeled by a choir of cherubs. Reality soon caught up with him, in which one noisy cherub was pummeling him while profusely drooling on his hair. The cherub was drenched, the camp bed was drenched, and Artie was drenched. He sighed.
“Babies are very watery creatures!” He thought, briefly considering the baffling fact that, babies, relative to their size, seemed to produce a phenomenal amount of fluid. He would have mused over the new Darwinian theories of evolution but...
“Ouch! Hey! That hurts, little guy. Boxing was last night, remember?” Determined to get Artie’s full attention, the baby had just punched his nose.
“Shall I take him off you, Sir?”
“Yes, please, before I get knocked out or drown!” Artemus replied as he was feeling another telltale warm and wet patch developing at his side.
More resigned than ready for the day ahead, he finally rose. The young man had kept his word and, refraining a grin, was handing him a large mug of hot coffee. Artie felt a wave of gratitude.
“What time is it? No! Don’t tell me; it is stupid o’clock, isn’t it?”
“Babies always wake up very early, Sir.”
“Do they now? That is bad news!”

The soldier was a great help; he quickly sorted the mess out and provided Artie with a uniform a little too big, but wonderfully dry! None of his civilian clothes had been spared. Out of sheer necessity, Artemus quickly learnt how to fold diapers. The lad was eager to act as Artie’s ordinance, proud to take part in what was starting to be talked about as a confidential mission. Being at centre of it, “in charge” of this very important baby, had promoted this new recruit in his colleagues’ eyes, even if they had already nicknamed him “Nanny”!
The lad fixed breakfast for Artie. He fed the baby who avidly drunk the milk, burped like a trooper, and soon needed changing again. Artie wanted to learn the rudiments of do’s and don’ts of babies care. The soldier spared him no detail, finding Mr. Gordon an attentive and rewarding student, despite his comical astounded looks and great naivety on the subject!
“Do you know how old he is, Sir”?
“Hum, no, I am afraid I don’t know that precisely. Around one year old, I should say… He cannot walk yet, but he stands up, and he crawls pretty fast”
‘Well, how many teeth does he have?”
“I don’t know that either!”
“ ‘cause you can tell more or less looking at a baby’s teeth how old they are.”
“Do you mean, like for… horses?”
“Yes, Sir! And when they’ve teeth, it means that babies need more that just milk, they like mashed up food but it depends...”
The bugle interrupted the lesson. Gordon contemplated that the three of them would have been ready for inspection well before reveille, a first in his military career!


**************************************************


The morning was busy, but offered little in terms of clues towards West’s or the machine possible whereabouts. Artie was hitching to get on with his investigation.
He had tormented himself to distraction trying to decide whether he should go on his own, which would be more practical and probably safer. Truth to be told, he could not bear the thought of leaving the baby behind. Against his best judgment, he followed his guts feelings and decided to take him along. Crazy as it was, he knew he’d done the right thing! The colonel, to his credit, never questioned Artie’s decision.
The boys gave Artie and the baby a good send off. One soldier from Russian origins had knitted a little cardigan and socks overnight! Another, whose father was a tailor, presented the baby with a miniature blue tunic made with remnants of old uniforms; Artie was given at least three dozen of make-shift diapers to play with, and a long list of recommendations on how to look after the tot. The regiment had practically adopted “Jimmy-Boy” as their “secret” mascot!
One had to admit that the cavalry had unexpected talents amongst its ranks!


They had made good progress and, despite the extra stops and a long break for some food and a rest, Artemus felt confident that they would reach the train the next day before noon. He had ridden all that way with the child in his arms, with Jim’s horse following, relegated to the status of beast of burden. An Army detachment accompanied them for a while, but they were on their own now.
The baby had been surprisingly good and easy to be with, even if Artie’s arm was aching for carrying him all day. Like James, ‘Baby Jimmy’ could happily sleep in the saddle. The rest of the time, he spent looking around or catching, holding and chewing the fringes on Artemus’ jacket which was now wet with spit!
Artemus decided to set camp early. If this morning had been in the flavor of things to come, he knew he could count on a very early start.


****************************************************


There were very few things James West liked better than waking up under the starry sky. He gazed at the million of twinkling lights. The Moon was rising above the hills. It looked enormous and seems to gobble up the surrounding stars as it progressed upwards and became more luminous.
He could hear the shuffling of hooves; their horses were tethered nearby.
He felt wet from the waist down but could not remember when or where they had crossed a river. Rain was rare in these parts...
The night was cold. He was not surprised to see Artemus tending to a small fire that he’d probably try to keep going until dawn. Artie helped himself to some coffee … The familiar mix of scents was very pleasant. Despite the chill, West felt comfortably warm under his blankets, wedged between the saddles...He stretched and yawned; Artie turned round and seeing him awake, came over, smiling.
“What are you doing awake on my watch? There is no coffee for you until breakfast, pal, so you might just as well go back to sleep!” Artie sat down next to him and the acrid smoky smell of his clothes became more pronounced. Jim could feel the warmth of his friend’s body. Artie was wearing the fringed jacket that suited him so well. Jim felt himself drifting to sleep looking at the patterns of the leather on Artie’s back. Jim liked western style although he did not wear it much himself. “Yeah, fringes are nice” he thought half dreaming…


Inspiration had come to him during the night and Artemus decided to take a detour. They would stop over in the nearest town. Since the earthquake, the little frontier town of Sawtooth had expanded; the collapse of some nearby hills had revealed the presence of minerals needed in the growing industry. Consequently the place was flourishing. The County Offices would also be a mine of information for Artie to exploit; someone, somewhere would have bought that compound. There should be records of transactions, names and places... Artemus fancied a bath and a couple of decent meals that he would not have to cook. And also, for all the stuff the pair of them had accumulated over the years, their train was still lacking in nursery gear...



******************************************

IV
Admittedly, the responsibilities of fatherhood could prove a strain on those of a nervous disposition. This not-so-young ‘new’ father was obviously such a man. This was the second time he had barged into the registry office, frazzled and agitated, alternatively mumbling gibberish or standing there, speechless and dumbstruck. Perhaps he was one of these pitiful casualties of war? So many young men had been maimed physically and morally. Or perhaps the younger generation having it so easy was just becoming weaker? If this man really was what he claimed to be, a government agent, no wonder why the country was going to pots! Nevertheless, in the name of duty, she had furbished him with all the details of properties exchanged, bought and sold. He avidly perused through all the documents in great haste, suddenly smiling in a way the old woman deemed unsettling…
“Thank you, Aunt Martha, thank you so much” He said beaming at her wildly.

She found his excitement was a little bit off putting, but it would take much more than that to scare her. Besides, she could not bring herself to dislike the man, and so decided to be kind and helpful...
“Look, for all your misgivings about fatherhood…”
His smile vanished, instantly replaced by a baffled frown.
“Misgivings? About father...I don’t have any mis… I need to…”
Here he was again, wide-eyed and stuttering! Aunt Martha just managed not to raise her voice too much:
“Do not interrupt, young man! Has no one ever told you this was rude?” She said sternly, determined to have her say.
“Uh, yes, Ma’am, they did! I do apologize, Aunt Martha, I did not intend...”
“As I was saying… She carried on, her eyes daring him to interrupt again. For all your misgiving about fatherhood, you must have done some good; your boy is superb! At least, his late mother must have been a very beautiful and very sound woman!
Gordon took the insult on the chin and sighed heavily. The baby started giggling.
“I am sure… Sure she was, Ma’am.” He answered, disheartened
“You see, young man, I know what your type needs, in order to function well!”
“My… type?”
“Living by the fear of God and under the guidance of a strong woman. Tough love; that is what your type needs in order to triumph over adversity! You’re still young! Life goes on, you know!”
“Yes Ma’am.” Artie sighed, in totally disbelief. Here he was again, being mistaken for... a widower now, he who hadn’t come round to be married yet... ‘Thanks a lot, James!” Artie thought, shaking his head at the irony of the situation.
By then, the old woman looked satisfied. She was confident that her therapeutic endeavor had done wonders for the man. Her eyes twinkled and her voice softened slightly.
She allowed him to rub his brow vigorously, probably trying to regain control over his fanciful ways.
“Now that you are calmer and that we understand each other, what else can I do for you, young man? And no more of these unlikely tales of earthquake, and God knows what else, if you please...We are going to be sensible from now on, won’t we?”
“Yes, Aunt Martha, of course…”
Artemus Gordon’s voice trailed on; his present story would hardly fit in the “sensible” category. However good he was at narrating the tale of an evil dwarf genius and his rejuvenating baby-making machine! Of all people, Aunt Martha knew that one does not need a machine to make babies… And the last thing Artemus Gordon needed today was his manliness and virility to be questioned, as well as his sanity!

The old woman sighed and shook her head. Somehow, she felt sorry for this poor, struggling soul.
His child, on the other hand, was delightful. He had been chuckling during their conversation. He was sat on the counter, his father holding him safely. Beaming at her, he was laughing and clapping his little hands. This gorgeous little boy was obviously enjoying himself greatly. If she did not know better, Aunt Martha would have sworn that the clever babe understood their every word and was laughing his head off at the expense of his bumbling father!
“Look at you, full of beans and bright as a button!” She said to the baby, gently shaking his podgy fist. “You have a solid sense of humor too, little one. Just as well; you’ll need it!” She added eying Gordon.
This provoked further giggling, which eventually resulted in a damp patch on her otherwise pristine counter.
“I believe, Mr.…?”
“Gordon, Ma’am, Artemus Gordon.” Artie answered precipitately, trying to take his hat off again and dropping it on the floor.
“I believe, Mr. Gordon, that you need to attend to your son, that is calmly, efficiently and immediately!” She added a little louder, marking each syllable of the last word.
“Yes, Ma’am, thank you very much. I‘ll be back!”
“I don’t doubt it!”

They left. Artie was as unhappy with his second visit to the County Office than he had been with the first one. Twice he had failed to elicit the old woman’s respect and enroll her help to the full. Yet somehow, she also had been complimentary; if such a woman thought one did good with the child, there was no doubt about it! He had felt comforted by her approval. Maybe she was right about that too; strong women had provided him with support and comfort! But he did not want to dwell on this difficult topic...
Now the baby was also getting both of them very wet. Alternatively laughing and avidly sucking his thumb, he was probably hungry too. As they made their way back to the hotel, the pair of them gathered quite a few curious and amused looks from the folks…
“I’m glad you had such a good time, Jimmy-boy!” Artie said a bit angry “... Because personally I am growing tired of being taken for the village idiot!”
The baby chuckled and drooled; Artie glared at him. Baby Jim got the message.
“Gack.” The baby said sheepishly nuzzling against Artie. The man’s features softened instantly.
“Hum! That’s better. But I hope you realize that we are not making much progress at all in this enquiry; I am not one step closer to finding Loveless…although… there is that little theory of mine I’d like to think about...”
“Gack?” The baby asked.
“Yeah, I knew you’d say that! But I need to think a little more about it. Come on, let’s go and get both of us changed. Then we can go out for a couple of pints, milk for you, beer for me, and some lunch. Afterwards, inquiry or not, we’ll take a nap in the heat of the day! What do you say?”
Artemus Gordon received a cheerful “Gack” of approval.



******************************************


Artemus Gordon would not usually take a bath wearing his smalls, but somehow he felt a bit intimidated by the presence of the baby sharing his ablutions. The baby on the other hand was having a jolly good time. He loved the comfortably hot water, the bubbles, the soap and the sponge; so much so that he felt compelled to sample the lot, biting each item in turn and spitting out in astonished disgust! He splashed with such efficiency that the floor of the men’s bathroom was soon as wet as they! But again, there was no surprise there. Jim was a superb swimmer! Artie eventually overcame his initial reserve and joined in the fun! Apart from the couple of times when shampoo went in the baby’s eyes and when he managed to slip from Artie’s hands and went under, the whole bath affair was quite a recreation for both of them. That is until someone came to door in protest of the inundation reaching the corridor!


*******************************

[Aunt Maud]

V
Seeing the train in the distance was such a relief that Gordon felt his throat tighten up.
“Look, we’re home! Is that a fine sight, or what?!” He managed to say, swallowing hard. The baby instantly responded to the emotional mood; clinging harder onto Artie’s jacket, he seemed transfixed by the vision of the large smoking engine.
James’s ‘present condition’ tainted the relief that Artie should have felt. Doubts started to creep back in. What if he had left his ‘real’ partner behind, in Loveless’ clutches? What if the Doctor had fooled him? The man was a genius; he could easily have planned many moves ahead!
Artemus missed James - the adult version, all strength, daring, prone to action, and short fused. Above all his partner was unencumbered by the type of undue questioning in which Artie knew he was losing himself at the moment.
The baby started to shift apparently in some discomfort, pulled a face, moaned a bit and…
It became quite clear that he would need to be cleaned up thoroughly! Artie could not help laughing.
“Partner, this is a very radical way to bringing me back down to earth! But thanks anyway!”
“Gack!” The child said politely
Artie pushed his horse to a canter.

After a busy afternoon settling in, and a well deserved, simple but nourishing meal, Artie tried to put baby to bed for an early night in the so-called presidential suite. But he met with serious opposition: the tot frowned, cried a little, straining against his arms, trying to pull him towards Jim’s room.
“No, no, no, you cannot have this room, that’s my friend James’ room, grown-up James. He‘ll need it when he comes back, hopefully very soon! Look, you can have that one!”
The baby went almost limp, defeated.
“Gack!”
The little voice sounded dismayed. Artie filled with the strangest of feelings. Was it ... guilt? If this baby was James, then why not using his room…? Still Artie hesitated, so he added softly:
“Look, little one, this is a very nice room. If it’s good enough for President Grant, it ought to be good enough for you too!”
“A-gack!”
“Don’t start this, will you? I occasionally had to tuck you in, even when you were a grown man, you know! … As for the rest, well, that’s a first, I admit! All new to me! And a steep learning curve it is too, let me tell you that! Now, lie down and go to sleep, like a good boy!”
“A-GAAA-CK !”
Baby had other ideas. It took ages to settle him. Artie, desperately tired, had practically passed out on a chair while reading him a bedtime story. The child opened his eyes as soon as the voice stopped and sat up, sucking his thumb. He seemed to consider the situation, pushed the covers off and climbed down the bed. He crawled over to the door and, looking back at the sleeping man, he paused for a brief instant.
“A-Tee.” The baby said softly, before making his way to James’s quarters.
With unabated will, he managed to push the door open and clambered onto the bed where the child cuddled up and instantly went to sleep, sucking his thumb.

Artemus Gordon soon woke up with a painfully stiff neck and feeling cold. Finding baby gone, he felt sick with worry, almost panic stricken, until he discovered him blissfully asleep on James’s bed. He covered and tucked the child in, arranging pillows around him to prevent a fall.
He could not help smiling with relief, admiring the gorgeous, spirited little boy… In this part of the train, more than anywhere else, the images of his partner then and now superimposed in very troubling ways...

Artemus once more shook himself back to the present. He wanted to use this time to think of a plan. He was too tired to do so. There was mess to pick up from the floor, and he had not even tidied the galley yet. The bathroom also needed cleaning! There were diapers to rinse... They had only been back a few hours and the plush parlor car was already turning into what Great-Aunt Maud would have called a pig sty. Probably smelt like one too!
“Still!” Artemus said to himself energetically, “How hard could that be, dealing with a little kid? People had done it from time immemorial! Although women do most of it, for which they seem so well equipped. Anything a woman can do, a man can too!” Artemus thought in a rare moment of feminist fervor.
He helps himself to a small glass of wine, checked on the child again and fell asleep on the sofa, telling himself that resting his eyes a few minutes would help him think! It usually did.




***********************************************


VI
If there was any possibility, however remote, that this baby could actually be James West, what was Artie to do with him? Finding Jim’s relatives and landing on their lap a baby whose actual date of birth was more than three decades ago? Resigning his commission with the secret services and raising the child single-handed as his adoptive son? He could be tracking down Loveless and demanding that the little wizard put things right or else? A foolishly risky move if there was any… Not that risk ever stopped Artemus Gordon before, but with a baby in guise of a partner, this was a very different game!
Letting things run their “natural” course was an equally scary prospect; by the time James would reach his mid thirties ‘again’, Artie would be a very old man, well in his late seventies! This sent shivers down his back; anything connected with Loveless always seemed to have the same effect of making one feel very scared and slightly mad! Actually “terrified and ready for the straight jacket” was probably a more fitting description. Artemus Gordon sighed; he was growing weary of it all!
There was a more immediate problem to consider: telling the tale of Jim’s disappearance to Colonel Richmond and President Grant! The truth? Oh! Sure enough, they would patiently hear him out, and then, Admin. would probably send him on compulsory leave, on medical grounds, in a very quiet and remote place! Tired as he felt, the prospect of a vacation amidst lovely nurses held some attraction but what would happen to the child then? Watching his partner’s back had just taken a very different meaning indeed!

Artemus Gordon had written some strange reports in his time but this one was downright impossible to produce. He had been staring at another blank sheet of paper for a while. Half a dozen scrunched up ones already littered the floor around his desk. No amount of coffee would make the task easier and, with a sigh, the agent considered the empty coffee pot; he had just managed to guarantee himself a very bad night sleep, with or without report writing!
Baby would wake up in the small hours of the morning, wet, hungry, and rearing to go. Sleeping was definitively a thing of the past.
What he could do, however, was to keep a diary of this astounding series of events; writing had always seemed to help him, often to keep a grip on reality and restore his own sanity. Precise accounts of events, however bizarre, could also prove an invaluable resource when it comes to solve a crime.
His reports, and Jim’s, although reliable enough did not always exactly match the facts, some of which the world was just not ready for. This particular report would fall in that category and could wait...indefinitely!
By contrast, encoded and carefully hidden in a secret compartment, Gordon’s personal journals, without exception, were accurate and exceedingly detailed.
He set himself to work and soon started to feel better, his mind clearing beautifully despite the tiredness.
Tracking down Loveless and his other machine was not a bad idea! In fact it started to sound like a plan. This was one plan, which Jim would certainly have approved of.
Loveless had been outwitted by one of the women he had groomed as a consort! Unbelievable! Yet this was the only thing that made sense, according to Gordon’s findings so far. She had had the brains actually to understand his work, steal it and set up her own shop, so to speak!
The agent did not know whether he should be full of admiration or scared.
The doctor’s ensuing rage knew no bounds and he had become unusually careless in his vengeful tracking of the female Judas. She wanted protection and amnesty. It was in those terms that she had approached the Secret Service, terrified of what she knew was coming to her, whether Loveless or the Authorities reach her first.
The agents discovered, albeit too late, that she also had another, more personal agenda. Of course, the woman was demented; but she had been possessed by her hatred for Jim and, even at death door, she could have sent them, spitefully, on a wild goose chase.
But for now, that was the only clue Artemus had.
He telegraphed the bureau to get the latest on Loveless’ known moves, and went to bed hoping to make the most of what was left of the night.




VII
James West woke up in the middle of the night. The familiar movement and sounds of the train told him he was home. He felt slightly disorientated but otherwise fine. A light had been left on in the corridor and its glow softened the darkness of his compartment. Doors left ajar usually meant that one of the partners was keeping an eye on the other. West could faintly hear his friend snoring next door. “Loafing on the job?” He thought with a smile. Jim knew that if he had been seriously injured, Artie would be sitting at his bedside. He felt tempted to call out but decided that Artemus needed his sleep.
Carefully he tried to move around and found neither pain nor restraining bandages. In fact, his whole body felt wonderfully mobile and flexible, if a little difficult to control. Only his jaw felt sore. His thumb encountered the bare and inflamed gum on the right side of his mouth. He could not remember having lost any tooth; that must have been a hell of a brawl!
West concluded that he was probably suffering from a mild concussion!
In the absence of nausea and headache, there was probably nothing to worry about. The agent discovered that applying gentle pressure on his gum procured some relief; his bed was comfortable and warm, if a little damp. That was strange but he felt safe and pleasantly tired. Keeping his thumb against the throbbing pain, West turned on his side and shut his eyes



*****************************************************



VIII
“Gack!” He said, sighing sadly
“I am sorry, Jim! You know, it might well be that a woman's job is well out the reach of even a talented man, after all.” Gordon declared in the morning. “That’s it! I surrender! We need help!”
They also needed fresh milk, and plenty of it… and coffee in equally vast quantity. The baby was looking at the cool boiled water in his beaker and a small plate of mashed sweet potatoes. He had not eaten and dipping his hands in the bowl had not amused him as much as it had done the night before. The milk had gone bad and there was very little else in the pantry that he would have wanted. Artie felt as awful as if he had abandoned his little partner to abject starvation!
The place still looked a mess. The dozen diapers hanging across the parlor decidedly created a scene of shabbiness. The fireplace had been left on in order to dry them quickly, making the car uncomfortably hot and damp.
Luckily they were arriving soon at their next destination where they were due to pick up coal and water. They would have to stop for longer than planned, due to technical problems with the engine boiler… The place needed cleaning and Artie had no taste for housework today, nor much time either. They had left the small frontier town of Sawtooth three days ago and supposedly were ordered to make it back to Washington as soon as possible.
However this was another place Artemus wanted to visit to gather supplies and possibly more information.
Or so he was telling himself; truth to be told, he was still gathering his thoughts and was not in any rush to reach Washington …


*****************************************************

IX
The two of them were walking back towards the hotel. Artie shaking his head as he contemplated the piece of paper the former schoolmistress had shoved under his nose as they’d left the building. Glaring at him and without a word, she had nevertheless expressed her feelings quite clearly.
“That’s just great, James! Your first school report and it reads ‘Plays too rough in the playpen. Does not get on with the other babies’. Really! And the teacher asked us to leave after you whacked that little girl! Now, don’t get me wrong! I know she started it! She should not have bitten you! … To tell you the truth, I am not blaming you for knocking her out a little… She was horrid! ...And you have to stand for yourself, but still...What I going to do with you, hey?”
“Gack?”
“Maybe so, but...Admittedly the mother was not better, I can tell you! I thought she was going to bite me too! I am glad we are out of that place. However, these are the sacrifices that you have to make sometimes in our line of work, you know… Anyway, you’ll be pleased to hear that, unexpectedly, and prior to the incident, the woman was able to give me some interesting pointers, not that she was in anyway aware of that, mercifully!

Artie omitted the most disturbing ‘details’; people had died, again, at the hand of Miguelito Loveless. His signature could not be missed and his trail was only too easy to follow. Again some unknown, often desperately struggling individuals had been lured and ensnared… Groomed to become his soldiers, they had paid the highest price for their misguided loyalty.
Even worse! More sickening, despicable experiments had taken place too, the thought of which send a chill down the man’s back.
Artemus Gordon held onto the child a little tighter and tried to shake himself out of this gloomy state of mind; lack of sleep decidedly did not agree with him...

Artemus Gordon took the key of their room at the hotel front desk and asked the clerk to run a hot bath. Normally the two agents would have been on their way immediately, following the hot trail, but the child needed attending to and the man was happy enough to take it at a slower pace after the eventful morning.

The previous night had been a sleepless one when the baby had been constantly waking up, cheeks on fire, and crying, evidently in pain.
Gordon had practically thrown the baby on the doctor’s lap at the crack of dawn. The old practitioner had smiled. He merely prescribed a teething gel to rub on the babe’s sore gums, and an unguent to sooth its bottom. The doctor had examined the child thoroughly and reassured Artie that the baby was robust and in perfect health.
He was happy to give the agent the basic formula of the cream, a simple but effective mixture of herbs and clay, which could be use to heal all sorts of skin ailments and superficial burns in particular. The old man knew that the formula still needed considerable improvement. As an amateur chemist, Gordon had a vested interest in developing substances that could meet Jim’s immediate needs, whether vouching war on their enemies, or recovering from it! This somehow could fall in either category! Also Artie had often toyed with the idea of making his tinkering a more permanent occupation when retirement from the service would come. Retirement that might actually come earlier than anticipated!

The doctor’s wife had taken pity on the tired man and invited him to share a superb breakfast. She took great pleasure in feeding fresh milk to the gorgeous child and she provided Artie with a wealth of information on how to bottle-feed safely and nurture the growing infant.
It was she who mentioned the mothers and babies group. The old couple had been blessed with numerous grandchildren and they had been instrumental in starting an educative program to help others. New ideas on hygiene, nutrition and health could be introduced, and lots of parenting tips could be shared, benefitting the fast growing population.

Artemus Gordon found it all fascinating. That a baby could be considered as a person was nothing short of a revolutionary concept. Although Artie found that he had no difficulty applying it to his present situation! But this was only because, somehow confusingly, he still saw this one baby as his partner, as Jim, albeit temporarily incapacitated.
That the idea could be extended to the general ‘under two’ population was an entertaining thought. Maybe, one day, this could be applied to rearing his own children!

Little did he know that amongst the women and their over-generous sharing of tales of birth giving, infants rearing, and often associated horror stories, he would have found the one source of information that would guide his steps back towards the East, and back Loveless’ evil scheme, with more precision that he would have thought possible!

Despite the little interlude of James picking a fight in the playpen, the morning had been quite productive. They had some food and a nap. As the train would not be ready for another few hours, there was time to relax and to make the most of their stay in the bustling place…
Eating out with the baby was almost as entertaining as going to a restaurant with the adult version of his partner; female company guaranteed! Artie discovered that most of the women did indeed write their own scripts about his situation. Like Aunt Martha, most of them seem to assume that he was a widower, having lost a wife in childbirth and tackling parenthood single- handed. This, they seemed to find irresistibly romantic.
Baby Jim proved to be a natural at wooing them on his own terms, of course. The ladies seemed to be willing to do just about anything they could to look after them both, to elicit one of the baby’s cherubic smiles, and to alleviate the father’s imaginary sorrow.
Feeding them was a definite favorite; it was lucky that both had a solid appetite!


X
James West was laughing aloud; he had never seen anything so funny! Both agents had inflicted numerous practical jokes on each other over the years, and often they just found themselves in hilarious situations, but this was one of the funniest moments, by far!
The cow would not move. Artie had been trying for some time, to no avail. The animal refused to go up the ramp into the stable car. No amount pushing, pulling, yelling and swearing would get the beast going!
A group of amused on-lookers had gathered on the platform.
James and his female companion were making their way back to the train through the crowd. James’ arm was around the shoulders of the lovely young lady. She looked at him and could not help herself joining in and chuckling. James remembered having to convince a small elephant to get up that ramp. He mentioned something of it to the woman who did not seem to get the point too well. Still she responded very gently “Yes, this is a cow, darling. I think Mr. Gordon got it just for you! A lovely cow and her baby calf! Isn’t that nice?”
Brushing aside the puzzling tone of her answer, he decided to concentrate on the softness of her skin. She smelled of roses and jasmine, this was delicious! She giggled when he caressed her face, and returned his touch with a warm embrace. “Oh, you are a ladies’ man alright, and so cute! Can anyone resist you?”
She kissed him passionately; that felt good!

Artie was a thespian, an inventor, a musician, a linguist, a master spy and outstanding storyteller amongst many other things, but he certainly was no cowboy!
He had a terrific sense of humor and loved nothing better than make others laugh. This particular show was not one of his carefully planned theatrical displays, but the small public gathering was enough to get him going!
Jim sighed. Yes, people were laughing at his partner again, but there was no need to fly to the rescue. Artie would probably resent him for stealing the show! Besides, the actor knew how to make good use of a captive audience. Soon enough Artie managed to recruit one of the men who simply carried the calf inside; the cow followed the call of her young and climbed the awkward ramp.
Artie bowed a couple of times, pull up the ramp and closed the sliding doors!

Once in, fed and watered, the animals settled quickly; the horses whinnied with utter contempt, and snorted at the new comers. Artie told them to cut it out!
“If you two knew what I have to put up with at the moment, you wouldn’t dare say anything of the sort!” He told them with mock severity.
“Talking to the horses, Mr. Gordon?” A gentle chuckle made the agent raised his head; he smiled at her:
“Hello, young lady! Yes, I occasionally do tell them off when they’re being rude! I can only hope that I’ll be more successful in gaining their collaboration from now on, because I can tell you that one was quite hard to convince” He replied, waving his thumb towards the cow. They laughed.
“I’ll show you how to milk her, if you want.”
“Why, thank you very much! I don’t mind if you do. It has been a while since I did anything like that …” Artie answered charmingly, never having milked a cow in his life before!
It was tricky at first, but fun, and great opportunity to flirt.
Laughing, they eventually made their way back to the parlor car where Jim was dozing off, comfortably reclined on the sofa. He instantly woke up, smiled and waved at Artie who warmly returned his friend’s greetings and came to sit next to him.
“Good afternoon, James!”
“Oh, Mr. Gordon! That was SO funny! Jim and I, we had such a laugh!” The woman carried on.
“I am glad you two enjoyed the show!”
“I think everybody did!”
“Even better! Did you have a successful trip? Shopping all done?”
“Yes, I got everything on the list you gave me, and some other bits that I thought you might need; washing, ironing and cleaning all done. Beds are made. The girls have asked me to thank you. You were very generous! The next time you and Jim are in town, you must visit us again. Your dinner is ready when you two gentlemen are hungry!”
“You are not staying?” He asked disappointed.
“I am sorry, but I must be going. My own children will be waiting for me.”
“Oh, yeah! Sure, well, thank you for everything!”
“Anytime, Mr. Gordon!”
Always a gentleman, he helped her with her cape and, with few words of gratitude, he held the door open to see her out.
She kissed James again and left. Artie turned to him, nodding his head
“Well, I take it that you had a good time in town, while I was...You know, wrestling cattle!” Artie merely waved his hand in the general direction of the stable car. Jim was beaming at him...
”Her name is Daisy, by the way. The cow is called… Daisy too, after the lovely lady!” Artie continues, smiling back. “I know it’s not original, but that’s all I can think of. If you have a better idea, let me know! Now, James-my-boy, would you like me to introduce you to our new recruit? Milk aplenty, guaranteed freshness, my young friend! This way if you please!”
And he scooped up the baby.





**************************************************


XI
“It’s no use moaning, Jim! All the women I talked to were most insistent that babies should not get too much sun on their head! Golly! That was the only thing they seemed to agree on! You are very fair skinned, so the ruffle bonnet stays on, or we are not going out at all, and that’s that!
Sat on West’s dresser, now turned changing table, the baby was in a serious strop. Bottom lip quivering, he looked miserable. He had been desperately pulling on the ribbons of blue satin that Artie had managed to tie into a large bow under his chin.
It was not an easy morning, neither of them had slept well, the baby was too tired to eat and too hungry to sleep! Artie had run out of coffee again and was digging deep in order not to run out of patience! Both had been battling over putting on the new dress to which the child objected furiously. Getting the rather frilly hat on was even worse!
Dressing, undressing and quick changing, these were activities that Artemus was very familiar with. His years in the theatre had equipped him very well and it did not take him long to adapt to a new routine! Costumes had always been a part of his life and he readily admitted to himself that getting a few items of fancy clothing for the baby had been a rather pleasant experience. Especially given the lavish female attention the two of them received in the local “Emporium”!
The baby on the contrary would have preferred to wear nothing at all, but his diapers!
“Hardly suitable for official government business!” Artie had said firmly.
They were back in Washington and Artie had managed so far to avoid meeting his boss! Richmond was in another part of the country, but Grant would not take no for an answer!

”Cheer up, Jimmy-boy! I am told that this model is all the rage in Washington; the season has started and all the boys and girls are wearing this style! The pinafore is blue and you’ve always looked good in blue. Definitively your color and you probably won’t be mistaken for a girl!” Artie went on, trying to ease the tension. Unconvinced, the tot sulked on. The man sighed and further tried to lighten their moods:
“Did you know, James, that in Shakespeare’s days, no women were allowed on stage? Guys played Lady Macbeth, Ophelia and Titania! All in beautiful frocks! Fascinating, isn’t it?”
But Baby did not care much for Elizabethan theatrical traditions, and he made his views on the matter clearly known!
“A-GAACK!”
“I can’t believe you said that!” Artie retorted. “One more word, Mister, and I tell everybody that your real name is Juliette! Besides why should I always be the one wearing dresses in this partnership?” He picked up the pouting child and they made their way towards the front door.
“Come on, let’s stop arguing, we’ve got a president to meet and some real bad guys to track down!”



****************************


XII
Artie introduced himself, and with a smile introduced the baby too:
“...And this is Mr. James West, also from the Secret Services! I should have our identification somewhere…” He fumbled in his inner pockets. The young woman behind the counter laughed at what she took for a joke and responded in kind:
“Never mind that, Mr. Gordon! A cuddle will do just fine!
“Excuse me?” He asked surprised; her answer was unusually forward for this type of establishment! He immediately realized that she had someone else in mind.
“Oh, yes, of course! Cuddle it is, then, by all means” He handed “Mr. West” over to her, and sighed deeply; at least some things did not change and probably never will! Jim West was definitively a success with the ladies! Artie could have sworn that the baby gave him a triumphant little side look as the lovely lady scooped him. Artie crossed his arms and, with a well-rehearsed air of mock resignation, contemplated the scene.
“Oh, isn’t he cute? How old is he? And where did you get THAT dress, baby?”
By now, Gordon had learnt that these questions were purely rhetorical and did not required answering as such; a little noise from him, in the right tone, at the right time, usually sufficed. Although he could not assume that any noise of his would be heard over the much higher pitch of a woman cooing!
Admittedly Jim West was successful with the ladies, but, as a gentleman, he showed some restraint. He usually dated one lady at a time, albeit often in rapid succession. As a baby, he knew no bound! His magnetic effect seemed to have tripled, so, it seems, his ability to endear himself. By the time he nestled against the girl’s neck, she was not only in love but ready to share the newly found bliss with all her girlfriends!
“Girls, look what I’ve got!” She called to her colleagues working behind the frosted glass screen; soon a small group of young women joined in. The cooing intensified: “Isn’t he gorgeous? What’s his name? What a little cherub! Can I have a cuddle too? Oh, look at his little hat! Isn’t he sweet?”
The baby was passed from arms to arms. Baby Jim was looking ecstatic, obviously enjoying every bit of the adoration showered on him.
“He is adorable” someone said to Artie who nodded his head in agreement
“Yes, I know, I live with the little guy, he’s a real sweetie!” Gordon said, grinning. He was visualizing James cleaning his small battery of guns and riffles, and sharpening his knives. He chuckled remembering the sheer wreckage his partner had left behind after their last saloon brawl.
“He is not bashful at all!” Another young woman said, kissing the little hand for the tenth time.
“Never was, but he can fake it convincingly” Artie added deadpan.
“He is such a flirt!”
“Oh! Yes! … Practically unstoppable in that domain!” This time Artie could not help but chuckled!

Eventually the clerk remembered that with Baby, there was a certain Mr. Gordon who was representing the Federal Government...



****************************


XIII
There was nothing the president liked more than making his two best agents squirm a little. In the absence of Mr. West, Mr. Gordon had certainly done enough for both of them since he arrived in the oval room. He was still looking down at his shoes, like a schoolboy expecting to be severely punished. When Grant decided that he had heard enough of “yes, Sir, no Sir”, he finally addressed the real reason behind his summoning them both. “At last!” Gordon thought!
“I usually like to read your prose, Gordon, but this last report is either intended as a joke, and I’d suggest you find your manners; I am still your commander in chief after all! Or you are serious and I want you immediately to undergo a very thorough medical examination... by an alienist!
“My report, Sir? What report?” The agent replied, instantly on full alert. “I haven’t sent any report recently, nothing about the latest events has been written yet and…”
“What do you mean? So will you kindly tell me what is the meaning of this?” The President thundered. “This arrived on my desk early morning today, delivered by hand, and signed by you! It is your hand-writing if I am not mistaken, is it not?”
“May I see the document, Sir?”
The president nodded and Artie lost himself in conjecture. What he had under his eyes was the tale of their ongoing tribulations, described with so much details and precision that it could have indeed been written by himself. To his horror, he realized that Loveless was not only operating now in the East, in Washington, and that, for the first time, he had also accessed the White House directly.
“Do we know where is West?” The president asked
“Yes, I left him with Miss Colli-…” Gordon started, distractedly waving in the direction of the door, still reading. He precipitately recovered from the gaffe:
“Hem! NO! Sir, no, not exactly, but I have a strong suspicion that he is at present, somehow... in the hands of Miguelito Loveless’ last...
“Ah, that evil little man again! I thought you and West put him in jail for ever?”
“We did, Sir, a few times, but he...he escapes, Mr. President… And he just did it again...”
“AGAIN? Will you gentlemen rid me of the man, once and for all?” Grant shouted.
“Yes, Sir, but I am afraid that the present situation might be worse than I anticipated!” Artemus Gordon looked up from the sheets of paper he had been reading. “I have never written this, but this is such a perfect forgery that only Loveless could have produced it and, as this was delivered directly to you, Mr. President, I would suggest…”
“I know, I know...I was a soldier once, if you remember? I can still recognize a drill when I hear one, however politely presented, usually by either agent West or Gordon!! Tell me something new, Gordon! By the way, given your personal tendency to mollycoddle me out of any possible danger, real or imaginary, I am not entirely surprised that you seemed to have opted for a change of career…Temporarily, I hope?” He added with a twinkle in the eyes, looking at his worried agent. He continued.
“I am told that you are playing nanny to ...someone else at the moment, so I’ll have probably to content with a small army of hand-picked agents to look after me, until YOU authorize my release! Ironic isn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir! It would seem that way! But your safety is paramount and…”
“Yes, Mr. Gordon, I know, I know! Now, may I see that … child of yours?”

The president held the child in his arms and both seemed delighted.
“What have we got here? A very handsome and solid boy!” He roared with laughter again when the baby sneezed and frowned at the smoke emanating from the cigar Grant had been chomping on.
“My! What are you feeding him on, Gordon? He weights a ton!”
Artie looked on with a large smile and irrepressible pride, however inappropriate that might be. “Looking after a baby decidedly does strange things to one’s mind.” The agent reflected.
As the president jiggled and tickled the now giggling tot, Artemus Gordon wished he had a photographic camera to capture the moment for posterity…
“As you know, Gordon, I had a few of those myself… Sometimes I wished they were still like that!” The older man reminisced. “Mind you, I know what that does to a man, Sir, I have been there!”
He eventually put the child to sit on the desk and Artie’s heart sunk; an array of enticing shinny objects on the large desk was taunting the child whose drooling suddenly intensified with excitement… Listening politely to the president whilst anticipating the baby’s next move towards a rather large golden ink well was an unnerving experience… Gordon just managed to put the writing material out of reach before any got tipped over a mass of dossiers of the most urgent state matters. This provoked a torrent of frustrated squeals from the child, and another salvo of laughter from the president. The man obviously enjoyed seeing his best and much loved agent clumsily trying to regain control over the willful baby.
The child was now getting a little whining, once again trying to rid himself of his hat.
“I am not surprised you’re fed up with this stupid bonnet falling on your eyes, little one. There you are!” The older man said to the baby, gently removing the little hat and a handing it over to Artemus. The child snatched it. He beamed at the president. Then, with triumphant glee, he turned to Gordon. The agent was trying to hide a smile, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“A-Gack!” Baby shouted, defiantly throwing the offending bonnet on the floor.

The two men briefly exchanged details of the next intended moves, the baby remained curiously attentive to their conversation until a wet patch developed on the top of the presidential desk. Artemus Gordon felt himself blushing, and wished to be swallowed by the Earth, something he had not done since his great-aunt Maud had … Never mind!
But the President was starting to cough for laughing so much!
“Your child has just peed on the Senatorial Commission Reports, Gordon! Now, this is a political statement I wish I had the freedom to make!” He said. ”And to tell you the truth, shortly before you arrived, I was very tempted to do the same, I must admit! This particular set of reports is worth nothing else! Believe you me! However, Gordon, this is the White House and a certain decorum would be appropriate, so I cannot quite entirely condone so much robustness in the expression of democratic principles!”
“Yes, Mr. President!” The astounded agent answered.
“Now, Gordon, go and sort out that mess, will you?”
“Yes, Sir!” Gordon said. Not knowing where to start with the damp folders, he picked up the first dossier and the baby.
“No! Not this mess, the other mess, out there, Gordon!” The president growled, exasperated. “Gosh, my wife always said that having children did her brains no good! But please, between two feeds, and diaper changing, try to remember you are my best agent, Gordon! I still value the little freedom my function allows! So be prompt and good luck, gentlemen! ” Grant shook his head as Artie quickly took his leave!
The door closed, the man chuckled. Gosh, that felt good to have a laugh!
He never doubted that a solution would be found. He was looking forward to their next report. Beats Jules Verne every time!


It was time for action. Prompt and decisive action.
Artemus needed to got back to the train and gather a few things before taking Loveless’ local lair by storm – a discreet but efficient kind of a storm!
Despite his acute awareness of the dangers ahead and the very real risks of loss of lives and limbs, Artemus Gordon always enjoyed the adrenaline rush he could feels at this point. This was the precise point in time that he always liked, even during the war, the moment when the word go is given, the point of no return: ‘alea jacta est’.
Although working with West always seemed to relegate him to the role of back up and rescue, this was hardly due to personal choice or lack of taste for action on Artie’s part. But James had a tendency to get himself into sticky situations, many of which could be averted, should Artemus’ hot-tempered partner choose to use a more cerebral approach! The two had had many arguments about that over the years! Still they had eventually found near enough perfect balance and life-enhancing ways of complementing each other in their work.

Nothing could beat James flawless instincts. Gordon was reminded of that very harshly when he felt the icy contact of a gun barrel against his temple.
“Ok, friend, let me drop the baby over here, on the bed. He is asleep!”
“Now, ‘friend’, come along nicely! No crazy stunt, or the kid gets it! There is someone here who wishes to have a friendly chat with you!”


XIV
“You have a lovely place here, Mr. Gordon, even if poor Voltaire finds the ceiling a little low for comfort!”
“Thank you, Doctor! Would you care for a drink? An excellent Bourbon, perhaps?”
“I have taken the liberty to help myself already, while amusing myself with your interesting if rather crude alarms!” Dc Loveless waved his arm about with ostentation.
“Pray, do sit down, Mr. Gordon. Your candid approach always enchanted me; you did not really think I would allow YOU to pour me a drink, did you?”
Artemus did as he was told and sighed theatrically.
“One tries, Doctor, one tries!”
“I have made very few mistakes in my life, Mr. Gordon, but I came to realize that you are one of the biggest. I intend to rectify this unforgivable error of judgment on my part. You see, I mistook you for a buffoon!
“Why, thank you, Doctor; I consider making people laugh a form of Fine Art! May I be so bold as to return the compliment?
The doctor’s eyes narrowed in fury, he barely managed to remain in control:
“I saw you as Mr. West’s side-kick, living, existing rather, in the shadow of your master, at his beck-and-call, grateful for the scrap of fame he was good enough to throw your way… He loves you, perhaps, like one loves one’s dog! ”
Artemus did not rise to the bait; he abhorred Loveless more than ever but decidedly maintained an air of total boredom, which he knew would infuriate the small man. He needed to gain time. Time for Jeremy and the others to arrive...
“Yes, I can see your point, doctor; Jim has always been fond of animals and dogs in partic-”
“You see, MISTER Gordon, I found that even my errors could be a source of inspiration. This is the mark of pure genius that even mistakes, however gross, lead to new inventions and open the doors to world of new possibilities. I built that machine just for him, you know?”
“Really? What a coincidence! I do quite a lot of that myself! And usually, Jim wrecks the lot, of course! But you know what they say: “boys will be boys!”
“Enough! Why Mr. Gordon, you nearly made me loose my temper! A rare feat, I can assure you!”
“My! Must be my lucky day!” Artie answered imitating the tone.
“You position, relative to Mr. West, is in fact infinitely exploitable. I should kill you here and now, for that’s all you deserve, but maybe I will keep you instead, enslaved, chained to a wall like a dog indeed, as sort of insurance of my new adoptive son’s good behavior...He will learn to despise you, to laugh at you... As a man, James West always refused to acknowledge me as his superior, but, raised as my own, the child I made him to be again will obey me. He will do my bidding, he will do what I want, he will grow up adoring me like a god!”
“Don’t count on it, Loveless!” Gordon answered coldly, glaring at the mad man.

Locked in their hateful confrontation, neither of them noticed the baby crawling from behind the sofa. The little hand hit the small pedal hidden in the foot of the half-moon cabinet with uncanny precision, then held the minuscule lever; on the table, an ornament figuring two ancient pistols turned slowly. Another pressure from the tiny fist, and the guns fired directly at Loveless.
As his master went down, Voltaire burst into a growl-like sob. He fell on his knees by the deformed, crumpled body. His enormous hands quickly turned red as he clumsily tried to stop the bleeding.
Artie got the pistol and fired at the man who had burst in. The man fell against the swinging door, shattering the frosted glass. Artemus knew that he had killed him.
Through his tears, Voltaire spotted the tiny boy who was trying to hide behind the sofa again. With a vengeful howl, the colossal man lunged. At the same time, Artemus Gordon seized the bronze statue and hit him with all his strength. Hercules’ mace embedded in the skull, the giant collapsed inches from the child.
The baby did not even flinch. He looked up.
This was not the gaze of a child who locked on Artemus’ ashen face.
Piercing blue eyes boring into the soul of his partner, he gave Gordon an almost imperceptible nod. When the all too familiar words “Thanks, Artie!” resonated inside his head, Artemus froze, totally mesmerized.
“Jim?”

As suddenly as it came, the eerie feeling dissipated. With one single little baby’s sigh, the charm was broken.
The child had just discovered an old piece of carrot under the sofa and, giving it his full attention, proceeded in worrying it like a dog with a bone!
Artie whisked the baby away from the gory scene, hoping that both Loveless and Voltaire were dead once and for all, and simultaneously wondering where he’d left the small pot of teething gel. The baby’s cheeks were on fire again; alternatively gnawing at his fingers and the piece of carrot, he was drooling profusely, his bib wet with spit.

Jeremy and the police could be heard arriving in force but Artie’s priority was to get to Loveless’ lab before any of his men raise the alarm, for, surely the little wizard would have implemented a contingency plan!
With a small child, haste was definitively a thing of the past, but for once the changing would have to be done en route. Artie grabbed a bag, and the baby who was still holding his carrot. The agent hailed a cab.

[Aunt Maud]

XV
“Don’t put that in your mouth, James, it’s dirty!”
“Gack!”
“I said no!”
“A-GAACK!’ Was the adamant and vigorous reply.
Were there any chilled -and clean- carrots left in the cooling box? He had forgotten to get some! Luckily, he did not seem to have forgotten anything else!
With a sigh, Artemus readied his gun and checked on his ammunition and various props, mini grenades and smoke bombs, all amidst James’ diapers changing gear.
He smiled at the child still lying on his back. James was frowning and looked defiant, almost daring him to try to get that old carrot off him. Artie smiled wider. Some things just do not change!
“Ok, partner, you’re clean and dry, and, yes, you get to keep the carrot. But the silver rattle is mine, Ok? Especially this one: it’s full of high explosive!” Artie shook the little rattle and laughed as the baby stared and darted his hand towards it. Like a magician, Artie made the rattle disappear, the baby looked shocked and puzzled. The agent laughed again, and realized that, strangely, he would miss the company of the baby. Well, at least some of it! He held the baby standing on his lap. The little legs were pushing hard. He was definitively growing stronger.
“And James? In case, I don’t have a chance to tell you later, the prize for the best disguise ever is all yours, my friend!”
“Gack!”
“You are welcome!”

The cab dropped them in front of a house apparently derelict. Some scaffolding suggested on-going heavy repairs. Gordon did not take long to ascertain that this was fake and they were inside in no time. The interior was more to Loveless’ luxurious taste yet without the usual opulence. This was more like working premises rather than the well-appointed dwellings Loveless and Antoinette would choose to live in.
Artemus would have expected some movement by now, but the house seemed deserted. Could this be a trap? But again, the small man had been held in jail until recently, maybe he had not had time to regroup as yet? Or had Loveless’ staff disbanded already, upon hearing of his demise?
With much caution, Artie went from one room to the next. Only a small part of the building was being used and nothing suggested a large number of men around.
Eventually, he made it down to the vast cellar where a faint noise of machinery could be heard. He was still carrying the baby who had tensed up and, mercifully, remained absolutely silent.

A handful of men, probably scientists, were wearing white coats. They were tiredly going from a piece of equipment to another, some were writing on check-boards. The multitude of flashing indicators reminded Artie of the prominence -and dangers- of electricity in Loveless’ work. A platform similar to the one he had seen before was standing in the middle of the room. It looked innocuous enough, no flashing light...Artie wondered how he would make use of such a device; the specs he had tried retrieved from the fire had made no sense at all! He just could not make head or tail of any of it, and had cursed himself more than once for not being able to match Loveless‘ genius! Admittedly, who could?
Artie took the time to observe the men working on the machine; He located the source of energy, probably gas as well as electricity. He spotted the levers on a central piece of machinery. He prayed that he would somehow know what to do to ensure that the process of transformation could take place, in reverse!

The agents were hiding behind some crates of various sizes; this was unusually untidy by Loveless’ standards. The man obviously had just ‘moved in’. Jim was sitting on one of the smaller boxes at his side, poised and ready for action. There was very little left of the softness of a cuddly child to his present tense concentration!
Ironically, Gordon thought, this was possibly the first time he had no doubt whatsoever about the identity of this ‘baby’, and of course this had to be at the very moment they would reverse the process, and hopefully give Jim his life back!

Other doubts were quickly creeping in: What if this did not work? Was it worth putting Jim’ life at risk? He was growing very fast and had even taken a few steps unaided! He would be walking soon! And what if the process went to far in the other direction and his partner ended up prematurely aged? They had seen it happen too!

“A-tee?” A tiny hand pressed on his own, startling him; the sharp contrast between the tender little fingers and the cold gleaming metal of his gun was somehow nauseating. Artemus Gordon felt his natural gentleness making way to resolve, and plenty of it! His gaze met his partner’s; that was James West all right! Those steely blue eyes did match the hardness of the firearm shine; they were talking of action, swift, radical, deadly action…
“Alright, partner, let’s do it!” Gordon said bracing himself for the coming onslaught. Instantly he felt ready to see this to the bitter end.


A smaller number of individuals, guns at the ready, were pacing around. Those looked bored, and would probably kill for a bit of distraction... Literally!
So a little recreation was exactly what they were going to get, and more than what they would bargain for!
Mr. Gordon felt in a generous mood and rolled four smoke bombs at once; he covered his mouth and Jim’s. Loveless’ men were soon all coughing, spluttering and falling on the ground one after another clutching their throat. One man noticed Artie and got one fist in the stomach, and an uppercut on the chin as he doubled-over. He fell backwards. His head hit a wooden crate. That finished him off. Those closer to their fallen companion, turn around to see where the commotion was coming from. Another henchman appeared behind and fell under Gordon’s fire. Two others advanced menacingly towards Artie and the baby, he swiftly diverted their attention with a small mechanical device imitating the noise of gunshot, redirecting them towards the opposite corner of the cellar: in a panic, they shoot repeatedly in the dark, making enough noise to permit Artie to grab one of the scientists. He pulled the terrified man down between two crates, pressing the barrel of his gun deep into his ribcage.
“Not a noise or I shoot! Now, do you know how to use this machine?”
The man shook his head and tensed up when Artie swore under his breath.
“Do you know anyone who does?” The man nodded, cold sweat running down his forehead. He pointed towards a tall, lanky younger man who had crouched during the shooting and was trying to crawl towards the stairs. One of the guards aimed at him; Artie fired first, and forcefully dragging the man in white back by the ankles, he pulled him over to his hiding place.
“Start the machine. You help me, I help you; you don’t, you’re dead! Got it?” Artie summarized
“Yes, anything you say! I want out!” The scientist stopped and stared at the baby who met his eyes without flinching. He looked at Artie with a questioning look, as he seemed to understand what the agent had not said.
“Are you telling me that… this is what I think it is?”
Before answering, Artie punched someone in the face. Rubbing his painful knuckles, he briefed the man and demanded that an attempt be made to restore James West to his real chronological age.
“I don’t know if…” The young scientist stammered
“Do it now and do it successfully, or I guarantee your life will not be worth living! No pressure there, of course!”
The scientist pushed and pulled some levers. The machine purred and the base started to shimmer.
Artie picked up the baby, emotion overwhelming him. He gently held the child in a warm embrace and could not resist plucking a resounding kiss on the rotund cheek.
“Now, it’s good-bye little cherub, hello lethal weapon! Alright Jim?”
“A-GAAKK!” The baby uttered, outraged. Obviously Artie’s severe baby-partner had little time for that sort of effusions! Artie chuckled.
“Sorry, partner, I couldn’t resist! Consider yourself lucky that my great-aunt Maud didn’t get hold of you! Toothless as she was in her old age, the woman would have eaten you up by now!”
Joking to hide his fears, he had just sat the little boy in the middle of the platform. The tot – or was it Jim now - was still looking indignant.
As instructed by the scientist, Artie reluctantly was taking a step back when he heard the first shot.
The burning sensation on the side of his head was telling tale of a near miss. Gordon had enough time to hear another shot. The scientist was face down on the floor. A large red stain was growing fast on the man’s back. Two of their attackers ended up as Artie’s targets.
By the time the agent turned to grab the child, a sort of mist had surrounded Jim. Artie did not know whether the process had started or if he was loosing consciousness. He vaguely heard the baby scream and he shouted back.
“Jim! It’s ok, I am here!”
A moan of pain answered him. Then Gordon was hit violently. Did he dream or did he hear his partner calling him again…?

“Artie, behind you!”
Too late! West saw his friend being hit from behind by a rather large piece of wood. Artie fell on his knees and collapsed next to him, on the platform, which started to glow ominously. The four men who were coming after them took the brunt of James West’s wrath.



*******************************




EPILOGUE: ON THE TRAIN

“Ouch!” Artemus Gordon took his hand to his forehead in a futile attempt to ease the throbbing headache.
“Look who’s awake!” A familiar voice said. Artemus Gordon willed his eyes opened; James West was standing in the middle of his compartment, arms crossed on his chest, a large smile on his handsome face.
“Jim! Is that you? Is that really you?” Gordon bolted up and paid the price with nausea and dizziness. His partner took a step forward and firmly getting hold of him, prevented his falling of the bed. Artemus grabbed him back.
“Easy, Artie! Yes, it is me! You have been out for some time, pal! You got hit and…”
“Let me look at you!” Artie carried on, feasting upon the vision of his partner fully restored to manhood.
“Jim, you are …”
“I am what, Artie?”
“You are so … so grown-up!”
“Artie, I have been grown-up for a good long time now!” West answered, looking a little worried.
“No, I mean, look at you, you are a man now, you’re back…”
“Artie!”
“And you look good! You are a handsome man, James!”
“Well… Thanks, Artie… Hum! You too! On the other hand, you need to... “
“I can’t believe it, it worked!”
“What worked?
“At Loveless’ place, this awful machine… It worked!
“So it did, and it has also burnt to a cinder; there is nothing left of that place!”
“Good riddance!” Artie said with feelings. James smiled at him.
“And what of Loveless? Is he…”
“No, Artie! Against all odds, he survived the shooting!”
“Devil of a man, I swear I’ll…”
“Yes, pal, but not today! Ok?”
Artemus nodded his head; it hurt but he carried on smiling at James.
“Now don’t you think you should lie down and get some shut-eye? If you want, we have pills for
your headache, plenty of sleeping draught and a brand new block of ice. You know, the usual welcome home kit…”
“No, no pills, just a little water, please.”
“Ok! Now, get some rest, or you going to get sick again. I had quite enough of that earlier
today!”
“Well, if you think that’s bad, you should have seen what I had to put up with when you
were...and how many diap… you... went through in a day! And do you know how long it takes to
clean and dry the…?”
Artemus’ voice trailed off; there were things that were impossible to say, even to one’s partner.
Especially to the adult version, with his soul piercing blue-green eyes! A smile barely softened
James’ concerned frown.
“Yes, Artie?” West asked gently
“Nothing!”
“… Jim?” He added just to make conversation.
“Yes?”
“What do you remember about the past weeks?”
“Not much I’m afraid, it’s all a bit of a blur! I recall you being around, talking to me a lot, the
house on fire, trekking along, Grant growling a little, Loveless’ hideout. He must have had a plan
which involved fattening me up, because I cannot fit in any of my clothes! But it’s all a bit
vague. Why?
“Nothing...You alright? The transformer has not… You are really alright, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Artie, I’m alright. Get some rest. Conversation’s over for now, we’ll talk about it in the
morning.”
Artemus Gordon knew perfectly well that they never would.
He looked at his partner restored to his glorious manly self, and silently offered grateful thanks to their overworked guardian angels.

Sitting at his partner’s bedside, James was massaging his right thumb absentmindedly. Artie smiled.
“Hurt you finger?”
“Just a blister! I wonder how I got that, though!”
“You did suck your thumb as a kid, you know!”
“Yeah, I… Hey! How do YOU know that?”
Artemus laughed wholeheartedly.
“I’m a secret service agent and an ace at intelligence, remember?”
“Artie, go to sleep!” Jim picked up a book, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing slightly.

James seemed to have suffered no ill effect from his ordeal. On the contrary, he remarked that he‘d never felt better. He was especially delighted that some of his physical performances had dramatically improved. Nor that they needed to, but his flexibility was better that it ever was and this was making some moves easier, faster and more fluid. Now that his toothache had miraculously disappeared, he slept wonderfully well. He would have had enough energy to go dancing all night, every night! Not to mention the rest…

Struggling to recuperate at first, Artemus started to feel that he could have done with a long spell back in the time when his own body was free of pain, and held no scar! If only they had managed to salvage that machine...
He slept like a log for a couple of days.
On the third morning he opened his eyes, found his headache totally gone and he felt rearing to go. Dinner and dance were definitively on! They did use their free time to have fun and lots of it.

Artie first assumed his own prompt recovery was due to the enormous relief he felt at having his partner back. But soon he had to admit that something deeper and more physical had taken place: his eyesight was sharper than ever, his hair richer, his waistline was back to that of earlier years; the agent was delighted. He looked good, rested, but also younger, leaner and he felt hungry for action, be it at work or at play! Although he still couldn’t keep up with James whose taste for strenuous physical exercise was reaching a whole new level, Artie felt stronger and more resilient than ever. While training together he gave his partner more than a good run for his money!
Everything was back to normal, and better than normal!

There was only one thing that was unusual though! Jim’s taste for beer, whisky and black coffee seemed to have changed. Although he would gracefully agree to open a new bottle of fine wine whenever Artie wished it, James’ glass remained practically untouched!
He would rather get himself a large glass of fresh milk!
Artie had always known him to drink quite a lot of it, but that was on a different scale altogether! From breakfast to bedtime, Jim never seemed to get enough. When asked, he vaguely mumbled something about the bitterness of coffee and beer, and having to make good use of Daisy while the cow was still onboard…
“It’s alright, Jim, when you’re done with this one, we can always get another, or even invest in a small herd, at that rate!” Artemus said to his partner one day. He did not move quite fast enough to dodge a friendly but expertly delivered punch!
Gordon laughed out loud. Then he hid his smile behind a newspaper as Jim was struggling to tug his shirt in his pants. Maybe losing a little weight is not entirely compatible with drinking pints of milk all day long!
“Loose the white stuff, Jim, and stick to whisky! Or you’re going to have to get yourself a whole new wardrobe soon.”
“That is an interesting prescription, Artie, thanks! You would be very popular as a country doctor, or at least as a quack! Anyway, I’ll go for a long run afterwards, for now I am starving. What’s for diner?”

Artemus also wondered how much work out would be required for his partner to lose any weight at all while he was also heartily tucking in each and every meal put in front of him.
“Hey, Artie, I have always liked your cooking!” James protested when Artie remarked on his second helping of potato gratin.
“Thank you, James! Want to drown your second diner in milk too?” Artie said waving his thumb at a large jug.
“Isn’t milk supposed to be good for me?” Jim answered holding out his glass with a twinkle in the eyes.
“Sure is! But I am not convinced that drinking gallons of the stuff is part of any slimming diet!”
“Hum! You’re probably right!” West agreed, his smile dropping a little. That instantly triggered pangs of guilt in Artemus, but, simultaneously, offered him a golden opportunity to tweak Jim a little more:
“Oh! What the heck? I don’t want you to worry about it! It’s probably just a little bit of puppy fat anyway! Don’t you loose sleep over that! You’re still young! James! You’ll grow out of it! Just forget about it…”
If James’s look could kill, Artie would be dead!
Wisdom prevailed, or maybe it was just self-preservation, but Mr. Gordon decided to dispense with anymore ‘chubby kid’ jokes for the time being!
Of course, James adroitly avoided Artemus’ any further attempts at fathoming out the possible causes for such a sudden, and temporary, change of eating and drinking habits.


*****************

James West stretched after a brief nap. Artemus would be back anytime, hopefully in good company and four theatre tickets! There was much to celebrate. Artie had published a book on child rearing under the pen name of “Nanny Aggie McGordon”. The first edition was complete with his own illustrations and even a photograph of Artie in female frocks, all made up to look like an older Scottish woman! West sighed; he considered himself open-minded, a resilient man, and a devoted friend, but Artie’s eccentricities could sometimes make him cringe!
Still there was no denying it; the book had been very well received and was very successful indeed.
As were Artie’s new patents on the fabrication of some skin healing cream and a teething balm for babies, both apparently promising products. His partner was decidedly full of surprises.
Of course, Artie was treating him tonight, and on a grand scale.

James relaxed and smiled, feeling very contented. He contemplated his surroundings.
The place looked good. Everything had been very thoroughly cleaned and the parlor refurbished. The baby paraphernalia - officially presented as a part of Artie’s research…- had been mercifully got rid of! The new carpet was deep underfoot. The golden yellow sofas had a warm shine to them, catching the evening sun beautifully.
The last item was being delivered. This was a new mattress for his own bed. Artemus had been so insistent that James had stopped arguing. His partner could get very passionate about all sort of strange things! James eventually relented. It was just one of those “Yes, Artie” moments!
With a sigh, James put the newspapers down, and swiftly finished a large glass of milk. He opened the door to the deliverymen and helped them with the removal of his old furniture. As he shoved the old mattress off the couch, he noticed a piece of ribbon stuck between the wall and the wooden frame. Intrigued, he pulled on it. A ruffled baby bonnet appeared, a fancy little thing, quite pretty, trimmed with lace and large ribbons of blue satin.
James West contemplated his find, smiling knowingly. He carefully folded the little hat and hid it at the bottom of one of his drawers.

******************

The true facts of this extraordinary case were never filed.


The End

*******************

(Easy, ladies! This is NOT a picture of Mr. Conrad as a baby. Sorry, Girls!)
I did not have a picture of the original baby in question (and I would not dare ask!) But there is absolutely no reason to believe that RC would not have been as irresistibly cute as always, even at an early age! Of course!


I would like to dedicate this story to the memory of Mr. Ross Martin, with my everlasting gratitude for his great gift of ‘Artemus Gordon’ to all of us.

This story is also dedicated to my Polish grandmother Stanislava Tomashevska Bogumil who raised me as a baby. It was on her TV that the WWW miracle first happened for me.

To Helene P. who took over my upbringing and has the white hair to prove it.

These two great women tried to teach me the meaning of generosity, sheer courage and integrity through their unfaltering example; I have been a mediocre pupil.

To my children Hannah and Samuel; she started her running comment on life and everything long before she could talk; a boy of action rather than words, he just said “Gack”! They have been the most wonderful of all my teachers, and an inexhaustible source of inspiration, joy and pride.
Most of the ‘baby’ incidents in this story have biographical elements borrowed from their early years, while they were gracefully surviving my bumbling and, at best, unconventional interpretation of motherhood.

Past, Present, Future, the world is a better place with people like them in it.